


all you can eat

by galaxyeyedrops



Category: Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyeyedrops/pseuds/galaxyeyedrops
Summary: (AU after Episode 11)  Kiriya invites Emu out for a round of drinks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> s/o to piper who i specifically asked to bully me into finishing this

Christmas comes and goes in a shower of confetti and forced overtime.

(There were sixteen bodies on that day alone: ten cases of drunk driving, five crimes of passion, the last one a murder-suicide.)

But despite everything, Kiriya had managed to figure out the basics. 

First off, Emu had the game disease. 

Second, something had happened to him six years back (the police report didn’t detail, but Kiriya had his suspicions).

And lastly, Kuroto Dan knew about it.

There was some connection there, between the man and Emu, but without any definitive leads, he wasn’t getting anywhere, anytime soon.

That man, Masamune Dan, the former Genm CEO, looked like he might pan out. But given how busy prison, especially the visitation queue, tended to be this time of year, he wasn’t giving any answers anytime soon.

Kiriya finishes up that one last autopsy report and leans back in his chair with a sigh.

Being impatient, a bit too hasty would only lead him to making mistakes. Might as well have fun in his downtime while he still could.

 

“Ah,” Emu scratches his cheek. “The thing is, I’ve got a couple of last minute things with Pediatrics tomorrow morning. Gotta be there early and all.”

“Not a problem.” Kiriya replies. “I’ll have you back before midnight. Plus the bar’s in Ura-Hara, so it’s pretty close to your apartment, too.”

Emu blinks. 

He opens his mouth, thoughts ranging from ‘no seriously I need to sleep’ to ‘ _ how do you know where I live _ ’. 

He stares at Kiriya.

Kiriya smiles in return, raising both hands in mock arrest, and wiggling his fingers. “Don’t worry,” he says. “No funny business, I swear.”

Emu pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Okay,” he says. “My shift isn't gonna be over for a couple more hours, but we can meet up at the lobby at eight?”

“It's a date, then.” Kiriya's grin grows wider, swinging an arm around and pulling Emu in close to ruffle his hair before sauntering off. 

Emu sighs, running a hand through his hair to smooth it out, before returning to work himself.

 

“Hmm,” Kiriya says, leaning forward on his elbows, eyes drifting over the menu. “Some Hiyayakko to start and—“

He looks to Emu. “Any preferences?”

“I, uh, don't drink much.” Emu replies sheepishly, scratching his cheek. “Had a couple of canned beers here and there, a few sips of toso every New Year's, but nothing major.”

“Ah.” Kiriya turns back to the waitress. “A couple rounds of Asahi’s Super Dry, if you have it. Some Yakitori later on, too.”

She nods, writing it down. “Salty or salty-sweet?”

“The second one. I'll order the finishing bit later but that's it for now.”

“Got it.” She recites the list back at him, Kiriya confirms, and she walks away. 

The news blares in the background, showing clips of the Kohaku Song Festival, with hosts debating over which artist gave the best performance, and who has the most promising career. 

The waitress returns, soon enough, with their appetizer. 

She places a hot towel on either side of the table, along with a pair of small plates, setting the silken tofu in the middle. 

She pours out a glass of beer for each of them, and Emu watches as the glasses fill up with clear gold liquid, the bubbles rising up and slowly fizzing out. 

He is snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Kiriya separating his chopsticks. 

He handles the tofu well, Emu thinks, elegantly shifting his portion onto his plate with ease, without so much as disturbing any of the toppings. 

In contrast, Emu manages to accidentally nick off a corner, spilling some of the green onions on top, and staining the edge of his sleeve with soy sauce. 

He takes a sip of beer to calm himself, the crispness and grassy taste mingling, leaving a slight tang of bitterness at the back of his throat.

“So,” Kiriya asks. “You got all of your New Year’s stuff done?”

“Mmmh,” Emu says through a mouthful of tofu, swallowing quickly. 

“Yeah,” he continues, clearly this time. “The Director had a small party at the CR on the day of, and I went with Asuna to a local shrine on the 2nd.”

“No postcards or anything?”

Emu shifts his his seat, his voice turns distant. “Not really.”

Kiriya mentally punches himself. He had read Emu’s file, seen his family register, and yet he still brought it up. 

“Oh?“ He says, cheekily. “Then maybe you should send me one next year.”

Emu takes another swing, smiling this time. “I'll add it to my list.”

Kiriya does as well, motioning the waitress for a refill. “I'll be looking forward to it.”

 

“You’re handling it pretty well,” Kiriya says, three rounds later. “Didn’t you say you weren’t much of a drinker?”

“Nowadays, I’m not.” Emu clarifies. “Was in a lot of drinking games the first few years of medical school, though.”

“Oh?” Kiriya leans forward, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” Emu says, rolling his shoulders back.

“I’m guessing our genius gamer did pretty well?”

Emu smirks. “Naturally.”

“Speaking of which,” Emu furrows his brows, attitude shifting back. “Why aren’t you drinking much?”

“Somebody has to be our designated driver.”

“We took the train here.” Emu looks at him blankly. 

Kiriya grins, ear to ear, and points at his bag.

Emu follows him with his eyes, switching back between the two, until realization dawns.

“You don’t mean?!”

“The station  _ is _ a bit far from my place.”

“Don’t the police ever notice?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Kiriya admits, pouring Emu another glass. “But who would believe someone talking about a driverless bike?”

“Or,” Kiriya corrects, “they’d think it was a secret government project or something.”

Emu finishes his glass. Kiriya flags the waitress for another bottle.

 

“-ey, __u? Emu?” 

“___n, Emu! W_ke up!”

There’s someone shaking him. There’s a hand on his shoulder, a vaguely familiar voice, and will they  _ please _ let him sleep?

Emu settles himself in, squeezing his eyes shut, ready to drift off, when his intruder decides on switching to a new tactic.

Emu flails, spine stiffening involuntarily as cold  _ cold _ water is poured down his back.

His eyes dart wildly, looking for his assailant, before naturally, coming to rest on Kiriya Kujo.

“C’mon, Ace.” The man says softly, defaulting back to the old nickname. “I gotta take you home.”

Emu nods, starting to get up, but stumbles, the world shifts sideways, Kiriya’s grip the only thing preventing him from meeting the floor face-first.

He steadies himself soon enough, reaches for his wallet, but Kiriya waves him off, tossing a couple of bills on the table.

Kiriya carefully leads him out, stopping him before he knocks into the red lantern at the bar entrance, guiding him into an empty back alley where Kiriya can transform.

The level generates, scattering trophies everywhere, and with announcement from his belt, Kiriya switches to his level two form.

Emu hoists himself onto the bike, holding back his nausea as Kiriya weaves in and out of traffic, (illegally) speeding through the streets of Tokyo.

 

Emu Hojo is not a light man.

He looks it, slim as he is, but apparently, he weighed his clothes down with rocks or  _ something _ , given how hard piggybacking him up the stairs had become.

And that’s not the worst of it.

With every step, Kiriya can feel Emu pressing up against his back, a sensation foreign to him in bike form.

With every step, Emu nuzzles in closer, and a part of Kiriya wants to curl up and die right there.

They make it to Emu’s apartment soon enough. Kiriya props him up against the wall, sticking a hand in his jeans pocket for his keys, accidentally brushing against Emu’s thigh as he does so.

“I thought you said no funny business,“ Emu teases, hot breath lingering against Kiriya’s neck and turning his mind to mush. 

“Nothing like that,” Kiriya says, his smile strained. 

“Well, not when you’re like this, at least.” He continues in a murmur.

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, managing to draw the keys out. 

He turns them in the lock, and with a click, they’re in.

Emu’s apartment is messier than expected, with clothes littered all over the floor, takeout boxes interspaced through.

Kiriya maintains a grip on Emu’s hand on the way to the bedroom. 

(Wouldn’t want CR to lose their most skilled Rider and all.)

Emu slumps down on the bed almost immediately, wriggling his way up without so much as bothering to change out of his day clothes. By the time Kiriya turns around to leave, Emu’s already snoring softly.

Kiriya, himself, makes his way to Emu’s couch, taking off his jacket and settling in.   
Tomorrow he’d start anew on the Masamune Dan thing, but for today, this was fine.

**Author's Note:**

> like yeah, emu addresses her as asuna-san, but also consider this, im too lazy to go back and incorporate in honorifics


End file.
